


some color on monochrome

by siempreniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, All legal obviously, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Businessman!Niall, M/M, Rimming, Student!Harry, sugar daddy with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siempreniall/pseuds/siempreniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's got one weekend to visit from uni; Niall's got plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some color on monochrome

The train ride from Harry’s school to King’s Cross takes two-and-a-half hours, non-stop, in business class. He gets himself a glass of wine along the way—red, tart, expensive. Niall will pay for it; he always does. The taxi ride from the station to the Docklands is costly, especially during London rush hour, but Niall always insists. The tube is too dark, dreary, dangerous for a boy like Harry. He’d rather the ride there be direct, without any trouble. Harry pays the driver with the card Niall gave him and tips him a tenner. Just because he can.

The doorman’s name is Gerald, and he loves Harry. Always welcomes him home with a swoop of his hat and a little bow, a bright smile that makes him feel special. He tips Gerald, too. Just a pound for his time.

Niall lives on the 39th floor, high up over the Thames and the O2 and the rest of South London spread out underneath them. The streets seem miles away when Harry’s with Niall. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**

Harry’s barely knocked on the door when Niall flings it open and scoops him into his arms. He kisses him quickly and with a little unintentional force that has him walking back into the hallway. Harry pushes at his chest, getting him to break apart. So he can breathe and walk through the door and get the weekend started.

“Let me in, Ni. I refuse to have your neighbours see—”

Niall drags him in and the flat looks the same as always. He has enough money to redecorate whenever he wants but he’s simple and likes what he’s got: large windows looking over the skyline and low couches so they won’t disturb the view, a clean kitchen with granite countertops that are cool to the touch when they fuck on them, a fridge full of all the food they could ever eat, and a bedroom hidden away that Harry’s not expecting to leave all weekend.

Niall attaches his lips to Harry’s neck the second he’s closed the door. He turns the lock without even looking and Harry smiles, tilts his head so Niall can reach better.

“You don’t need this,” Niall mumbles against his skin as he reaches back to rid Harry of his rucksack.

“Hey,” he tries to protest, but Niall’s already shoving it into the laundry room.

Niall peers at him with raised eyebrows, “Are you seriously going to do homework while you’re here with me?”

Harry shrugs, “Dunno, you’re growing old. Thought maybe it’d be kinda hard for you to get it up-”

Niall just shoves at him playfully and gets his back against the counter’s edge. His hands settle on the slight curve of Harry’s hips and hold him there. But he doesn’t go back to kissing or touching or feeling out anything. He just looks, and Harry catches his breath.

“What?” he says, after Niall’s been quiet for too long.

“I’m just seeing how you’ve changed since I last saw you, is all,”

He runs his hands over Harry’s arm and maps out the two new tattoos there. They’re kinda silly, but that’s the way Harry likes them. He’s got new stubble to match, and Niall runs the back of his hand over that, too.

“It’s not a lot,” he admits, “But if I don’t shave I look like a creep,”

“I like your baby face,” Niall says with a pout.

“Like my hair?”

Harry reaches back and undoes his bun, his hair falling to hit below his shoulders already. He knew he wanted to let it grow, but he’s surprised at how attached he’s gotten to it.

“I love it; you look beautiful,” Niall admits before cupping Harry’s chin between his fingers and bringing their mouths together.

He reaches back as they kiss to toy with the ends of Harry’s curls. It makes him purr, without meaning to, into the kiss. Which Harry might find embarrassing if it didn’t make Niall groan.

They’re interrupted by the intercom buzzing. Niall leaves Harry all alone to rush over and talk to Gerald.

“What’s that about?” Harry asks, with a nice little push from his bottom lip.

“Dinner,” Niall says with a smile, “I ordered out from a café down the street. Got you the lime chili chicken I know you like. And…”

Niall runs around to the other side of his fridge and brings back a bottle of red wine. It looks delicious (and expensive).

“Oh,” Harry scoffs with a hand flying over his chest, “You _do_ know the way to my heart,”

 _More like into your pants_. Niall mumbles. Harry’d kick him, except that’s when there’s a knock on the door and their dinner is finally there.

**

They eat at Niall’s kitchen island, on the stools that Harry had found in a shop in Chelsea when he came to visit in the beginning of the summer. He almost hadn’t even showed them to Niall because of their price tag; Niall bought them without checking. It turned Harry on more than he cared to admit.

“Do you ever drink wine when I’m not here?” Harry asks as he pours himself a second glass. Niall’s not even half-way done his first.

He shrugs, “What makes you say that?”

“You only ever have enough wine to last the time I’m here, and you have enough beer stashed away to survive the apocalypse slightly tipsy,”

Niall laughs and leans in to kiss Harry’s neck.

“I know you like it, is all,”

“Well, yes, _I_ like it. But I don’t want to be the only drunk slag in the house. Get yourself a beer, please,”

Niall gets up and returns with a glass of Guinness, downing it before Harry’s done his own glass.

“There, that’s better,” Harry smiles before puckering his lips. Niall leans in, without missing a beat, and kisses his softly. But before Harry can turn away and pay attention to his food, Niall reaches around and grabs him around the shoulders and slips his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

And Harry lets him, because kissing Niall makes him feel like nothing he can ever compare it to. It makes him feel warm and loved; it gives him butterflies in his stomach like no other person ever has. When Niall kisses him, he doesn’t think about the expensive wine on the counter or credit card in his pocket that he has unlimited control over. He doesn’t think about the skyline view out the window behind them or Niall’s job that puts him in control of one of the biggest corporations in the country. He just thinks about Niall, about the easy smile that’s saved just for him, about the big hands that hold onto his own, about the soft way that Niall touches him.

“Are we done with dinner yet?” Niall asks as he pulls away. Harry’s only eaten half of his chicken, but there are better things waiting for him.

“I think so,” he says. He pushes his dish away and leans back on his stool, “What’s next?”

“Wait here, I have something I want to get ready,”

Niall rushes off into his bedroom and Harry half-listens. He gets up to rinse off their dishes and stick them in the washer. He knows that whatever Niall’s up to, it’ll distract him for the rest of the night. The last thing he wants is for Marlena to come in the morning and find such a mess.

“Stop it!” Niall yells as he loads the last plate in, “You have to stop cleaning up when you come here!”

He almost sounds angry, _almost._

“I was bored!”

“So you _cleaned?_ ”

“Shut up,” he says fondly, reaching forward to grab onto Niall’s hands and feel their warmth. Except, they’re wet.

“Wha—”

Before Niall can even respond he’s undoing a scarf from around Harry’s neck and putting it over his eyes.

“Ohhh,” Harry starts as some realization dawns on him, “Kinky,”

“Knock it off,” Niall smacks Harry’s hip playfully, “Just move forward, I’ll steer,”

Harry walks carefully ahead, only moving when Niall pushes him to the left or right (nyooming sound effects included). Finally, he walks far enough that when he goes to take another step, Niall holds him back. Then suddenly the blindfold is gone from his eyes and—

“What a fucking romantic sop,” Harry says, with a strange tightening in his chest.

They’re in the bathroom, and the bath’s all set up with candles around it and large, fluffy towels hanging off the warmers. There’s even a radio by the sink, and Niall runs over to turn it on. Some music fills the room, but Harry’s not even paying attention to it.

“I just figured…” Niall says as he walks over and starts to unbutton Harry’s shirt, “That we’re both a little stressed, and could use some relaxation, hm?”

He gets his shirt off, and then Niall’s working at his buckle and his jeans follow it. Harry cottons to and works at Niall’s shirt, just enough so he can pull it over his head, and before his brain even catches up they’re both naked and Niall is leading him into the tub.

Harry relaxes back into Niall’s chest, sinking under the warm cover of the steaming water. It smells like lavender, or something equally calming, and it’s probably because of some ridiculously expensive oils he picked up the last time he was at Harrods.

“No bubbles?” he asks, like a petulant child.

“I’ll remember that for next time,”

Niall rubs his hand up and down Harry’s side, nothing but comfort on his mind.

“Tell me about school,” he says after a few minutes of silence and breathing each other in.

“It’s boring,” Harry says easily.

“No, come on. I want to hear about what you do during those horrible, lonely weeks when you’re not with me,”

Harry elbows him in the side, “Well… I’m doing well in all my classes,”

Niall kisses him on the top of his head, “Good job, babe,”

“Mmhmm. It’s been kinda cool on campus, too,”

“Have you been wearing those scarves we bought over the summer?”

“Yeah, people like them a lot,”

“What have you and your friends been doing?”

“You know, the usual,” he rearranges himself from between Niall’s legs, his half-hard cock bumping Harry lightly in his back, “Just… going to concerts and some parties. Nothing too shocking,”

Harry feels the soft touch of a flannel up against his side, from Niall washing him tenderly.

“And boys?” Niall asks as he starts to encircle Harry with his arms, “Have you been seeing anyone?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head and then tilts it back to see Niall’s face. He’s still soft, still the same Niall, but with a more serious look than he usually has, “Why would I, when I know I’ve got you here?”

Niall smiles at him and pecks him on the lips, soaping up his cloth and continuing to scrub it over Harry’s body.

It’s not like they’ve ever really talked about what they _are_. Ever since they started their thing, their fling, they’ve been dancing around the topic like it’s untouchable. The closest they’ve ever gotten was in the beginning of the summer when Harry had had a few too many shots of tequila and told Niall about some guy he had made out with at an end-of-term party. He and Niall were nothing, just fuck buddies, but it visibly made Niall tense. And that night, after he’d fucked Harry senseless, Niall rolled over and went to sleep without as much as a snog or cuddle. That was the last time Harry’d touched another guy, and he knows he doesn’t miss it.

“Thought I was getting old?” Niall laughs, his face turning light again.

“Of course, but I’d rather watch you get old than watch the guys at school do… anything else, really,”

“Romantic sop,” Niall echoes as he moves from kissing over Harry’s temple to biting his ear; his steady strokes moving from Harry’s stomach down lower.

“Are you getting me all clean?” Harry asks, though he knows where they’re going. His stomach burns with excitement for it, and has all day.

“Of course, darling,”

And finally he reaches Harry’s cock, still soft but just waiting for attention. Niall drops the cloth, and all pretence of bathing that went with it, and gives it a few firm strokes.

“Oops,” he says, with a small laugh that he only saves for Harry.

“I’ve been thinking about you all the time,” Harry admits as warmth spreads through his body at the thought of sex with Niall. His cock’s been lonely; excited’s an understatement.

“Thinking about what?”

“Everything… me sucking you off, you fingering me, my face smashed into the bed with your cock up-”

“ _Jesus_ you’re a menace,”

Harry moves from laughing to squirming as Niall picks back up the flannel and starts washing down the insides of his thighs, and then it’s trailing lightly over his hole.

“You don’t have to,” Harry admits, “I already did that,”

“Did you?” Niall whispers, and as Harry shifts he can feel his cock pressed even harder against him.

Harry nods, but doesn’t go into it. Doesn’t tell Niall of how, just earlier that morning, Harry had prepped himself in the bathroom. How his flatmates got worried that he was taking an hour in there, they thought he had caught the flu or something. He didn’t want to admit, to them or Niall, that he was so ready to just get fucked, so impatient to feel Niall buried deep within him, that he didn’t want to have to worry about it when he got here. He wanted to be ready beforehand for whatever Niall had planned for the night.

“You’re all clean?” Niall asks again.

He doesn’t wait for Harry’s answer, just lets the flannel float away in the water and skims his bare finger over Harry’s rim. And Harry can’t answer, with any words caught like a gasp in his throat.

“Look at you. All ready for me, spreading your legs like you’re gagging for it,”

Niall digs his finger in further, rubbing slowly and gently. He hasn’t got any lube, and the water’s not helping at all, but Harry still bares down on it, because fuck if he can help it. He’s been waiting a month and a half to get in bed with Niall, and he doesn’t really care about the circumstances.

“Do you know what I wanna do with you?” Niall asks, after a few minutes of playing with Harry’s arse.

“Fuck me?” Harry replies, with just a small lip bite that he swears is unintentional.

“Maybe later. But first… I wanna eat you out so bad,”

Harry can’t even stifle his groan at that.

“I want to taste you, darling, I want to feel you clench on my tongue. Do you want that? Think you cleaned yourself well enough for that?”

Harry does; Harry did. He thought of that specifically, of Niall’s tongue opening him up, earlier that morning. He made sure to be thorough.

“Now,” he says with a start, “Bath’s over,”

Niall chooses not to tease him any longer. He pulls the stopper and helps Harry out. They dry off together, with the mockingly warm towels making Harry shiver every time they ghost over his maddeningly hard cock. He attaches himself to Niall’s back once he feels dry enough, kissing him behind his ear where he’s sensitive. They walk together, as one unit, back into the bedroom.

Harry remembers when he first came here. He was new to London, hadn’t been here since he was a kid, and after only a few days in the city he got taken home by some big-shot Irish businessman after a quick blowie in a club loo. And it hadn’t been the most glamorous or classiest moment in his life, but when he walked into the flat, into a room that looked over London like they were Gods, with a fit man wearing a watch worth his entire tuition on his wrist kissing his neck, he felt different. He felt powerful, significant, important for the first time in his life. And he still gets bits and pieces of that feeling whenever he walks in the room. When he’s got this gorgeous, rich man spreading himself over the bed because he’s waiting for Harry. There’s an entire flat being ignored, an entire city put on hold, because Harry’s finally come home.

“Come here,” Niall beckons him in with open arms. Harry walks over shyly, like Niall hasn’t seen and felt it all, and collapses on top of him. Niall doesn’t make a noise, just attaches his lips to Harry’s.

There’s a lot of things he wants to be doing (and on the top of his list is paying his dick some much-needed attention) but kissing Niall brings him back down to earth. It helps calm him down so he doesn’t get overwhelmed before they even get started. But when Niall slips his tongue in, making Harry gasp more than he can even keep his mind straight, he gets antsy and impatient. Starts pawing at Niall’s chest to get him to back off; he needs more.

“On my back?” he asks when they finally break apart.

Niall traces over Harry’s nose with a careful finger, “I was thinking maybe you could ride my face?” He says it simply, like they’ve done it regularly.

“Like…?”

“Like a girl would, you know, or like if you were just riding me normally. Just… I lie back, and you kneel over my face and-”

And, fuck, nothing’s ever sounded hotter in Harry’s life.

They arrange the pillows on the bed so that Niall can sit up comfortably, and then Harry’s walking over on his knees to kneel with his back to Niall. He starts to shimmy back but Niall grabs him around his hips and stops him.

“Wait one sec,” he murmurs, and Harry does. He stills and feels Niall grabbing at his arse, pulling his cheeks apart to get a better look. Harry wants to blush, to get shy and turn in on himself, but he’s always known Niall likes to have good look and really likes what he sees.

“You have, hands down, the most beautiful arse I’ve ever seen,”

He leans forward to kiss and nip at his cheek, rub his thumb over the rim so he can watch Harry’s body jerk and react from a new angle.

Harry reaches back and grabs onto Niall’s hands, still holding him open.

“ _Please_ Niall, I need-”

“You need my tongue?”

He nods furiously and jerks when Niall gives him a firm tap on his side.

“Alright then, just back up slowly and I’ll tell you when to stop,”

They get situated again, Harry feeling like he’s about to suffocate Niall, and he wants to say something but is silenced by Niall licking a broad stripe up the cleft of his arse. He struggles to breathe and stay upright, reaching back to rest his hand on Niall’s head, and maybe push him a little deeper.

It’s the dirtiest thing they’ve ever done—continually. There’ve been a few times when one of them has come up with some crazy idea that gets swept off the plate forever once they try to execute it, but they keep coming back to rimming. Niall loves to shape out the noisy, writhing mess he can make with his tongue, and Harry loves how open and slutty it makes him feel. And a little bit because of how Niall’s the only guy he’s ever tried this with, the only guy he’s ever trusted enough to actually _get_ his tongue into such a special, secret, sensitive place. Niall knows this, and he’s always made sure to make Harry comfortable and make it good.

Fuck does he love it, and fuck is it dirty. The sounds that Niall usually makes when he goes down on Harry get amplified by the changed position (and the fact that he knows Niall likes to get a little bit carried away and Harry likes to let him). Niall alternates between circling his rim expertly and trying to get in as deep as he can, to taste every part of Harry he can touch. Harry doesn’t even flinch when Niall brings a finger to press into him easy and slow. He just shivers and bears down.

Harry’s not even thinking when he gets a hand on himself, he just knows that he’s aching with the need to come and Niall can’t stop him and he just wants to feel good, just wants to finish what Niall’s started. It takes only a few strokes for him to curl in on himself and make a mess over his fist, his leg, Niall’s sheets.

He can tell that Niall’s felt him do it, by the way his tongue stopped moving when Harry clenched tight around his finger, but it doesn’t stop him – not immediately. Niall just keeps going and sucking at Harry’s hole, circling his finger and prodding it deeper, until Harry’s absolutely shaking with _too much_ and pent-up energy. After he knows he’s pushed to his limits he rises from Niall’s face and leans forward to catch his breath.

“You could’ve told me you were about to come; I wanted you to on my tongue but not my finger,”

Niall reaches up and smoothes his hands over the soft skin on the back of Harry’s legs. It’s nowhere near as sensitive as where he’d been just moments earlier, but it still makes him tingle and light up like anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a big gulp, “I just needed to come, needed to finish,”

“It’s okay, darling. You were perfect, you know. Riding my tongue like you ride my cock. I know you’re so good at that, with your nice muscles and pretty hips. Just like to ride anything, don’t you?”

Harry nods and tries to rearrange himself. He’s aiming for lying back with Niall and kissing him, trying his own taste, but he’s distracted by Niall’s cock. Its hard, imposing shape and how they’ve been ignoring it all night.

“I can make it up to you,” he whispers before leaning down and taking as much as he can into his mouth in one go.

Niall doesn’t get a word in before he’s flailing out. It catches Harry off-guard and forces him to pull off, only for a second.

“Let me suck you,” he says easily, pumping Niall’s cock while his mouth’s removed from it, “I missed your taste; wanna make you feel good,”

Niall smiles and threads his fingers through Harry’s hair—long now, and gorgeous. “Do you, babe?”

“Yeah,” he nods, then leans down and takes Niall in again. Niall goes lax with the feeling of Harry’s mouth stretched around him. Harry’s got a wicked mouth, all swirling tongue and pretty lips that look debauched around a cock. And he knows how to use it, loves experimenting with new ways to make Niall shiver, make his toes clench, make his hands grip a little tighter in his hair. He wishes he could do this for hours, just make Niall feel good and hear those soft sighs and grunts that he has to let out as Harry circles his tip with his tongue.

After getting his rhythm steady, Harry feels one of Niall’s hands move out of his hair and his body twist. Harry looks up to see Niall searching for something in his bedside chest, before pulling out a bottle of slick.

“Wanna come in you, yeah?” he says, so casually.

Harry pulls off and nods into Niall’s thigh. It doesn’t matter that he’s just come, that he’s sensitive and drained from a full day of school and travelling. He’s so fucking ready to get fucked.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asks as Niall slicks up his finger.

“Keep going, I’ll tell you to pull off when I need to,”

Harry shuffles around so that Niall can reach easier and goes back to slowly take him in. He jolts at the first feeling of Niall’s cool finger at his rim, but it pushes in easily. Harry’s relaxed and already stretched from earlier, and it only takes a moment for Niall to add another finger. He groans at how full he feels—his mouth stretched around Niall’s cock and his arse stretched around Niall’s fingers. But he loves it, fucking loves feeling every inch of Niall pressed into and around him.

“Pull off,” Niall says harshly as he adds a third finger. Harry listens, “Wanna come inside ya, don’t want to waste all this energy for nothing,”

Harry understands and nods, but that doesn’t keep him from burying his face into Niall’s stomach and taking a deep breath. He smells like sweat and a bit like the come Harry got there earlier.

“You think you’re ready?” Niall says finally, as he spreads his fingers to try and open Harry up more.

“Yeah, m’good,”

“Rubber or no?”

Harry doesn’t even say anything, just shakes his head.

Niall drags his hand up Harry’s side to make him shiver and get his full attention.

“What position, babe? Wanna ride me, so I can see that beautiful arse of yours? Watch you over me?”

Harry thinks about it, because he loves to ride Niall and to do all the work and to really show off his body and how much he wants and needs. But his legs are already shaking and he feels so close to falling apart that he doesn’t think he wants to. He wants to be close to Niall, to lay with him and feel the slow drag of his cock as they share a pillow. He wants the intimacy he misses sometimes when he’s gone and Niall can’t be there.

“Um, can we do something different?” he asks in a small voice.

 Niall furrows his brows, “Of course. Your legs are getting tired, aren’t they?”

Harry nods because that’s the easiest explanation.

“On our sides, then? Wanna do that?”

“Yeah,” Harry mouths before leaning over to kiss him softly on the lips. It’s a bit off-mark, but it works for them.

Niall arranges them quickly: Harry’s back to his chest, his cock rest heavily between Harry’s thighs.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers as Niall lines his cock up with Harry’s hole.

Niall stills, “Don’t say that. Nothing to be sorry about, love. Could’ve said you weren’t in the mood and I wouldn’t have pushed a thing. Want you to be comfortable, final. You good to go?”

Harry turns his head to look Niall in the face, smiling, “Yeah,”

Niall grabs a hold of Harry’s leg to spread them further and guides his cock in with the other. He’s careful with Harry always, but seems to be taking special care now as Harry stretches slowly around him. He presses small kisses into the bump of Harry’s spine where his neck and back meet and takes such good, good care of Harry.

“You’re fucking tight,” he says as soon as he’s all the way in, “Fucking love to fuck you,”

Harry groans because it feels right and it feels good. Niall starts moving, rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of Harry’s arse, just enough to get him used to it. They haven’t seen each other in almost two months, and although they both know that Harry’s not fragile it can be nice to work up to the best parts.

Niall works himself up to speed.  He gets impatient and grips tighter at Harry’s leg, opens him up wider, fucks him hard.

“Want you to touch yourself for me,” he says quickly, “Can’t come with you,”

Harry reaches a hand back and grips Niall’s hair and reaches down to pull at his cock. He moans and arches as Niall relentlessly pounds into him. It’s a-whole-fucking-lot after already having come, but he just bites his lips and focuses on the heat in his stomach telling him he needs to come again. His dick is heavy and leaking; Niall always does this to him.

“You’re fucking taking me so well, but need you to come. Can you again?”

Harry moans in response, which he hopes Niall takes to mean “yes”.

“Love it when you come around my cock, squeeze it so tight. Just want you to feel good. You close?”

Harry groans and speeds up his hand on his cock. He shoves his face into the pillow and screams as he comes for a second time, smearing wetness over his hands and the cover next to him.

“Fuck,” Niall says, finally, before gripping Harry even tighter and coming, too. Harry can hear Niall’s breathing grow louder and steadier before he finally pulls out of Harry and taps him on the cheek.

“Roll over, wanna snog,”

He grins and listens, meeting Niall face-to-face with a laugh buried inside them. Niall brings up a gentle hand to cup his chin and kisses him softly. They’re always lazy afterwards. Usually they need to shower or piss or turn off the oven, but lying with each other and stroking hands down back and fingers through hair is more enticing.

Harry sighs, “You’re too good to me,”

“Not possible,” Niall nips at Harry’s bottom lip, “Think I spoil you just the perfect amount, and you do the same to me,”

“Dunno,” Harry sighs and falls onto his back, looks over at Niall with drowsy eyes, “I’m still thinking that I got the better part of the deal,”

Niall shakes his head and laughs, “Well then you obviously haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror in ages,”

He grabs Harry round his ankle and prompts him to get moving into the bathroom. Harry takes his time following Niall in.

The shower is all glass and marble and stainless steel. It definitely beats the box Harry’s working with in his own flat, and if he wasn’t already in love with Niall he’s sure the shower would be next. There’s even a program in it that has his preferences remembered, and after he starts it up he turns around to find Niall with a toothbrush stuck in his mouth, wiping off the cum on his chest with a flannel.

“Unfair that I’m stuck showering to get me clean while you’ve just got a quick wipe down,”

Niall raises his eyebrows and pulls the brush out of his mouth, “I think it was you who made that decision, yeah?”

Harry knows it, and the messiness is part of why he likes it so much, but he still pouts as he drags himself under the water.

“I’m gonna be back in bed for when you’re done,” he hears from outside the door, “Don’t rush, but please hurry,”

Harry takes his time. He cleans himself thoroughly of all sweat, cum, and anything else he may have picked up. It seems silly, now, for them to have started with a bath when they both knew it’d end like this, but that’s half of the fun. They get to do shit that doesn’t make sense and enjoy it until the end.

He washes his hair with Niall’s shampoo, half because it smells great and half because it reminds him of London and soft beds and blond hair. It’s expensive as shit, too, as are most things that Niall buys. And he knows that he could ask for it and Niall’d run down to the store to buy it for him in a heartbeat, but that’s not the point. He feels uncomfortable asking for presents, even ones as small as haircare products. And it gives him something special to do when he’s here, a little change to his plans and daily routine to look forward to.

When he’s finally done he doesn’t even bother with a towel, just shakes off and returns to Niall’s bed damp and tired. He fears that Niall’s already asleep, but when he gets under the covers Niall turns over and he gets wrapped up in Niall’s smooth arms.

“You’re soaked,”

“Thought I’d clean the sheets, probably need it,”

Niall laughs a little too loud for the quiet room, then leans in to give Harry a kiss on the neck.

“You smell like my shampoo,”

Harry closes his eyes with a smile and stays silent.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
